
Our oldest just turned seven yesterday. Wow! seven! Honestly that seems so old. Seven is a big kid.
I remember December 1, 2002 vividly, even Matt having to move the car at the last minute so we wouldn't get a ticket. (Ticketing started at noon on Sundays down by St. Michael's Hospital in Toronto and Will was determined to be an afternoon baby. ) We've had lots of laughs about that since. I had wonderful nurses until I got to my room, but we'll skip talking about her, in the evening Grace arrived and she was named appropriately. Grandma and Pa visited and brought chili and sweet potatoes (my iron levels were quite low), and the McCabe cousins came to visit (Sarah was only 8 months old!), Cousin Kate brought coffee from Second Cup downstairs, Paula Jones phoned, and Poppy sent Grammy soon after we went home.
We were wowed at this baby wonder: 9#, 6oz baby boy! We're still wowed by him. He's sweet, handsome, and has smarts that make homeschooling a breeze. He loves life and adventure, reading and playing. He does all at full speed with gusto and doesn't understand why sometimes it needs to be slower or quieter (but he tries).


Goofing around